The Joy of Eating, Mutants
by Complica
Summary: To prepare a Mutant, first find a mutant.


The Joy of Eating, Mutants

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A/N: Warning. This Jean is not representative of comic cannon Jean or the intended movieverse Jean. She's a nod to the Jean-haters of the world and my tribute to those thirty, fourty and beyond women who lose touch with their maturity and turn into horny, misguided teenagers. I've seen many of them. They exist. For the purposes of this story, Jean is one of them. This story ignores X2 so that I could write in a few comic elements, such as Jubilee's history. The story was meant for humor's sake. Read it as such.

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-Once Upon a Breakfast- 

"If you want breakfast in bed, sleep in the kitchen."

Rogue winced as Logan slammed the door to Jean's room. Even when Jean left Scott --about which all the students had speculated about but none had actually figured out her reasoning-- the tempers flared and words exchanged had been nothing compared to what had become the norm every morning in the X-mansion.

Loud arguments, Logan more so than Jean. And telekinetically flying objects, Jean exclusively, though Logan made things slam just as easily if not dramatically. It was unnerving, and it left most of the younger students walking on eggshells around Jean. The older ones just assumed she was having a mid life crisis and stayed out of her way. Of course, everyone avoided Logan, just on principal.

Most everyone.

-Thud-

Said TFO, possibly a book by the sound of it, slammed into the door Logan just walked out of. "?Bitch," muttered the Wolverine as he lit his cigar. Somehow Rogue assumed she wasn't suppose to hear that.

A quick clearing of her throat alerted the distracted Wolverine of her presence. "Hey, kid."

"Hi, Logan."

Logan was a man of silences. You could tell a great deal by what he didn't say. The silence this morning assured Rogue that the conversation would not include Jean, TFOs, or romantic gestures involving breakfast food of any kind. But because she was his Marie, she could talk about anything else over breakfast and he'd listen. He didn't always comment, but he always listened.

First, breakfast had to be acquired. They walked in comfortable silence to the kitchen, as they did every morning. But the pounding, yelling and scent of smoke stopped them both just beyond the door. Logan, stepping ahead of Rogue, pushed open the door and they both raised an eyebrow at what they found inside.

"Denny's again, sugar?"

"Yeah, darlin'. Let's go."

Scott entered the kitchen a few minutes later.

"Do not start with me. You will not win."

Behind ruby-lenses, Cyclops stood wide eyed. The kitchen for the most part, was covered in a fine coating of white powder, and what was left of an open bag of pancake mix lay discarded on the tabletop. Smoke was wafting off of the stove where a skillet full of bacon was reducing to indistinguishable bits of carbon. And a frustrated weather goddess, also coated from head to toe in pancake mix, was attempting to pry loose a piece of bread from the uncooperative toaster before it too became a piece of inedible ash.

It wasn't coming loose, all threats aside.

Ororo had just lifted her hand above the obviously malice, evil toaster, the scent of ozone beginning to waft from under her palm, when Scott swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke.

"What happened here?" It came out as a high pitched squeak, very un-Cyclops like. But it seemed appropriate coming from a bewildered Scott Summers. Ororo spun on her heel, looking uncharacteristically bewildered herself.

"The cook called in ill. I was preparing breakfast."

Said as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and she wasn't covered in flour.

Scott leaned against the door jam and propped his clinched fist below his nose, trying to conceal laughter that was rapidly slipping out of his control. It didn't help when his shoulders started shaking, but at least she couldn't see the amusement in his eyes. Ororo stood dead center in the disaster zone trying her best to save some dignify.

Her eyes glinted and her hand folded over her hips. "I don't find this amusing, Scott."

Scott gave up trying to hide his enjoyment and smiled openly, but at least got his laughter under control. No sense in being cruel. Ororo was only capable of laughing at herself to a certain extent. Anything more then that was a shot at her pride. And pride was everything to a goddess.

"You should have asked for help." Scott smirked. Ororo bristled.

"I am perfectly capable of preparing a meal without any assistance." No sooner had the words escaped her mouth then the skillet containing the rapidly carbonizing meat burst into flames. Scott moved to grab the pan's lid, but Ororo simply extended her hand, her eyes becoming milky. Over the flaming pan a small cloud formed, dousing that morning's breakfast in rainwater.

Scott stepped up beside her, putting an arm around her powder covered shoulders as she eyed the flooded stove and wrecked kitchen. He didn't have to have known her as long as he had to read both disappointment and damaged ego. "I'll call for delivery, we'll clean this up later." He said with a smile as he led the weather witch out of the disaster zone.

Upstairs, not all of the mansion's residents were up and about as of yet.

"How can I miss you if you won't go away?" Jubilee groaned at an obviously hyper Iceman who sat, bouncing on the twin bed she was trying to sleep in.

"Come on, Lee. I'm gonna be gone for three whole weeks. What's the mansion gonna do with only one half of the terrible twosome to terrorize them?" Jubes groaned again, something about the mansion managing just fine and the Iceman's ass lighting up like the Fourth of July.

Bobby slipped a hand under the blankets, freezing the sheets.

Jubilee screeched and bolted upright.

"GEEZE LOUISE, BOBBY. Alright alright, I'll do it. What 'oh so brilliant' prank do you have planned this time?"

Bobby grinned and steepled his fingers in front of his face, in his imagination, a perfect impression of the Professor. "I call it, Project Ice-queen."

Down in the lab, said Ice-queen had managed to avoid the fiasco in the kitchen altogether, and was blissfully unaware of the terrible twosome's plot against her.

Jean stood in the break room, breathing in the scent of her Colombian Supreme brewing. "Coffee?Chocolate?.Men... Some things are just better rich."

"Ah. Would those be the musings of one, Dr. Grey?" Came a syrupy tenor from the doorway.

Jean didn't turn. "Hank, you startled me."

"My most humble apologies my friend. Am I to presume by your early arrival that you would prefer the first shift in medlab this morning?"

Jean poured herself a cup. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all. I find the medlab a much more agreeable station in the latter hours of the day." Hank replied warmly.

The redhead did not respond, but proceeded to dig through the cabinets in search of her packets of Sweet-n-Low.

"Well, I shan't procure any more of your time. Have a pleasant day, Jean" And with that, Hank departed for the upper levels of the mansion. He rarely saw them these days. There was just so much work to be done down in Medlab. At least, that was the excuse that worked best in his critical mind. The truth was that there wasn't much reason for him to be anywhere else. He'd been away from the mansion for a long time. Distance was a strain on friendships, even the closest ones. He felt distinctly like an outsider these days. Normally, Jean would be his confidante in these matters but?.well.

He glanced at her from across the hall at the elevator doors, reminding himself, "All things change." And then the blue doctor made his exit.

"You too, Hank." Said Jean, to the inside of the cabinet. On tiptoe she reached for the small pink box of her needed sweetener, only to have her fingers fumble over it, spilling pink packets over herself. In mid huff, she plucked one off the top of her head and added it to her coffee. About that time, her cell phone went off.

The red-headed doctor smirked at the name on her caller ID.

"Jean Grey, wanton sex goddess? at your service."

Laughter.

"Now you know we can't do that here. It would be like hanging a big "Busted" sign over the bed with that bloodhound sniffing about."

Annoyance.

"We've had this discussion. You know why I'm with him."

Amusement.

"Well, that's why I'm with you too. Don't worry. As soon as I can think of an appropriate reason to drop the bloodhound, I will."

A chuckle and a smirk.

"Alright. See you tonight, Warren."

Dr. Grey flipped her cell phone closed with a rare grin plastered on her face, took her coffee, headed into the lab to begin this morning's inventory.

At Denny's, Rogue sat silently, watching Logan stab his bacon and sausage to death mercilessly.

"All stressed out and no one to choke?" Asked Rogue, unable to stand the silence any longer.

The Wolverine spared her a glance then, apparently deciding that the cooked meat was in fact dead, shoved a sausage link into his mouth and began chewing in earnest. After the first swallow he pointed his fork at her and grumbled, "I don't wanna talk about it, kid."

With that he was back to shoveling down food as if it were going extinct, and it was Rogue's turn to properly kill her food.

"She's lying to you." Rogue was never good at avoiding pressing issues.

Logan's fork stabbed at his plate loud enough to draw the brief attention of the old couple in the next booth. "I said I don't wanna?" He started with a growl, but changed directions as soon as he caught the expression on Rogue's face. "How do you know that?" Came out in a much more restrained tone from the Wolverine.

Rogue fumed. "A better question, sugar. How do -you- not know that?" Logan grunted and stared down at his food, suddenly not so hungry.

"I know." Came out the quiet confession.

"She's not good to you, Logan. You deserve better." Rogue was right. They both knew it. Unfortunately the damaged pride of the Wolverine decided to take that moment to rear its ugly head.

"And who is good for me, Rogue? Who's gonna treat me better? Storm? Jubilee? You?" The last part slipped out before the wiser part of Logan's brain could clamp his mouth shut. There was silence from the two occupied tables in that corner of the restaurant. They had the old couple's complete attention now.

The silence told Logan just how much he had just screwed up. If Logan's entire personality could be told in silences, then with Rogue, it was only her anger, and only when she was channeling him. He'd seen it in battle, at one Christmas under the mistletoe when the Cajun kid took it upon himself to see if Rogue was really untouchable, even occasionally when Popsicle Boy froze the pipes to the girls' shower. But it had never been directed to him. "Rogue?"

In true southern belle fashion, Rogue stormed out the door indignantly not bothering to so much as look over her shoulder as Logan threw a twenty on the table, grabbed his jacket and followed her out, casting a side long glance at the table behind theirs. The old couple grumbled and stared pointantly, disapprovingly.

Logan didn't stop until he reached his bike. Marie was already a block or two down the side of the highway, thumb extended, walking backwards in the general direction of Winchester.

"Rogue!" Logan called out to her again. When she didn't answer he straddled his bike, turned the ignition and slammed it into gear, taking off after her and making an older model Ford Tempo, already damaged, swerve to avoid the avid Wolverine. The driver laid down on her horn, which proceeded to stick. The constant high ringing instantly gave Logan a headache as he once again swerved off the road and straddled his bike across the sidewalk, just in front of Rogue.

"Marie?" She glared up at him, but the anger in her eyes had disappeared, replaced by pity. The Wolverine didn't like that either.

"She wasn't what you thought she was, was she, sugar?" For a moment they just stared at each other. Rogue wasn't expecting an answer even if Logan could provide one.

He pulled the helmet off the back bar and held it out to her. "Let's go home, kid."

Rogue sighed, "Yeah, sugar. Let's."

Jean ended up spending the majority of that morning on her cell phone.

"Besides, Charles is a blind old prune. He'd give Magneto the keys to the mansion so long as he promised to lock up when he was done." There was audible male laughter from the other end of the phone.

A grin widened on Jean's face. "Scott's just as bad. Sure, he has that fearless leader thing going on when we suit up, but in the bedroom, all you need do is point to which bridge you want him to jump off of."

She turned in her chair, propping her feet up on the desk that hadn't seen the first bit of paperwork since Hank left earlier today. "I'm in a house full of freaks, Warren, in more ways than one. Storm's a hypocritical prude, Logan's an emotionally dependent caveman, Rogue's just a needy childish bitch, Hank's a geek, Remy's a slut, and Bobby and Jubilee are both immature punks that need shipping off to military school."

There was momentary silence in which a faint tinge colored the doctor's cheeks and her grin broadened even more. "You, Warren, have a delightfully nasty mind."

The conversation continued along that course, alternating between Jean's commentary of her teammates and what could only be classified as the preliminaries to phone sex. Fortunately for everyone interested in that particular conversation, there were no visuals to go along with the auditory discourse. Also, a fortunate turn of events for everyone but Jean, the good doctor failed to notice the tiny microphone dangling a few inches below the air vent.

After the Ice Queen left the room, the microphone disappeared up the vent and a teenage boy's laughter could be heard echoing from the metal box, followed quickly by a female sounding growl.

"How come she didn't know where were here?" Jubes asked in a quiet tone completely uncommon to the young spitfire. Drake just shrugged.

"Maybe she was too?.distracted." He offered. Jubes was pissed. A blind and deaf man would still be able to feel it radiating off of her. But the Iceman couldn't quite keep the chuckles in check.

Bobby, who knew Jubilee's temper and should have known better, laughed and patted her shoulder after helping her out of the vent and into the storage room. "Man, that was great. We've got her dead to rights. If she lives a million years she'll never be able to live this?."

Jubes swung about and gripped Bobby by the shirt, shoving the unsuspecting teenager back against the tool cabinet. "You heard what she said, Drake. She's cheating on Wolvie. She said all those things, called him names." Her grip went slack on Bobby's shirt and she took a step back, eyes still flashing with anger.

"She called us names too, Lee. Hell, I don't think she missed a person at the mansion." Bobby watched her carefully, fully expecting to be thrown back up against or possibly into the cabinet. He moved the tape recorder out of harms way just to be safe.

"But she's suppose to love him, Bobby. She gave up Mr. Summers for him. She?" For a second she was quiet, and so was the Iceman. He'd known Jubilee long enough to know that on those extremely rare occasions when she had to hunt for the right words, it was best to shut up and let her find them. Interrupting could get you 'paffed'. "Wolvie may not be the easiest guy to love. But he's decent, and he'd do anything for the people he cares about. He may not show his heart much, but when he does it's genuine. He's utterly without bullshit, Bobby. And he deserves someone that won't bullshit him."

And now Drake felt like an idiot.

Logan had a habit of showing up and disappearing at random those first few years before he finally came back to stay, and apparently to claim a recently single Dr. Grey. He'd become the mansion legend. A story the older kids could tell the younger ones and then have the real thing show back up in the flesh a few months later. It irritated Rogue, and it fascinated Jubilee. So much so that at one point, Jubes slipped into the back of Logan's newly purchased trailer, as per the stories she'd heard, and rode off with him.

Drake wasn't sure exactly what transpired that caused the Wolverine to not turn directly around and take Jubilee back to the mansion. But the girl could talk her way in and out of anything, and Bobby figured she did just that. The only thing he did know for sure was that a few days later, a call came into the mansion with Jubes on the other end and a feral growling noise in the background. Jubes was sounding just a tad bit smug when she explained that she was safe, with the Wolverine, and they were going on a road trip so not to worry about her.

Xavier allowed it on the promise of weekly phone calls.

Scott shit bricks for two months.

She explained later that they'd traveled all over Asia, making Jubes the center of attention for weeks after her return. Logan stayed for a full month that time before leaving, and spent that time oogling Dr. Grey, spending time with Rogue, and now, hanging out with Jubilee.

They had gotten close in that time, but Drake just never realized how close until now. Lee was just as protective of the Wolverine as Logan was of Rogue and Jubes both. Who else but a thirteen-year-old sparkler-spitfire could possibly have the balls to protect the reputation of a man who got himself in and out of more shit than a manure salesman?

He smiled at that, a maneuver that should have at least got him a face full of sparkles, were he any other person. "So?Are you gonna woose out on me here, Lee, or are we gonna hang the Ice bitch out to dry." He asked, gesturing to the tape recorder.

Jubilation smirked. "Hang, dry, tan, and can, Iceman."

Logan and Rogue patched things up in their usual method, by playfully teasing each other and cracking corny puns until the problem itself magically disappeared. Rogue was swatting at Logan as they entered the foyer.

"Behind every successful woman is herself." Rogue cracked.

"Maybe, darlin', but I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career." Logan retorted.

A snort came from the southern belle. "That, sugah, is because men are too bullheaded to ask for advice on anything, not even dir?rect?ions." Rogue's voice trailed off as a familiar voice blared over the school intercom."

"? all you need do is point to which bridge you want him to jump off of."

Most of the younger students were gathered in the Rec room and stood slack jawed listening to Dr. Jean Grey's voice echoing through every hall and office in the entire school. A few laughed, but the laughter died on the throats of the ones within glaring range of the fearless leader. It was amazing how well a man could glare through a visor. The set of his jaw was tense, and Logan guessed the only thing holding him back was a recently depancaked Ororo, who had her hand on his shoulder.

Just then a smug-looking Jubilee and Bobby came darting out of the school switchboard office, stopped abruptly by a furious red-haired streak that cornered them between the Rec room and the Foyer. "YOU!" she shouted, pointing directly at Jubilee and holding her still with her TK. Not the wisest maneuver by far as Jubes' hands had made it into attack position, and it as it earned the good doctor a face full of paff.

Jean shrieked. "Someone stop her, she's attacking me."

"? Storm's a hypocritical prude, Logan's an emotionally dependent caveman, Rogue's just a needy childish bitch, Hank's a geek, Remy's a slut, and Bobby and Jubilee are both immature punks that need shipping off to military school."

At Xavier's mansion that morning, everyone's eyes grew wide at the exact same moment. Now it was Scott with a restraining hand on the weather goddess. And there would have been nothing to contain the Wolverine, had Jean not chosen that moment to make a rush towards Jubilee.

Bobby caught the movement and iced the floor, sending the Ice Queen tumbling into an ungraceful heap on the hallway, then erected a wall of ice between her and them. Jubes, Bobby, Rogue and Logan stood on one side of the ice barrier, and Jean was trapped with the rest of the team and the students on the other.

"Doncha stop now, girl. Tell us how you really feel." Drawled a certain Cajun with a dangerous glint in his eyes. The stares from around the room were a mixture of anger, betrayal, and hurt.

"Let me explain." Jean tried to smooth things over. But in that moment the tape reached the phone sex part of her conversation with Warren. The eyes of the younger student's widened even further as they got an early sex education class and the looks on her teammate's faces fell uniformly into disgust.

Jean looked like she was gonna say something else, but the sound of a motorized wheelchair silenced everyone in the room. Xavier wheeled up directly in front of Jean and leaned forward to where she still sat on the slowly melting floor. There was an eerily calm look in his eyes, calm and cold. It made Jean more than just a bit nervous. "You and I must talk."

On the other side of the ice, Logan was staring at the wall between him and Jean with tightly controlled rage. It didn't help that the tape was still playing, that it was Jean's voice telling everyone in the mansion exactly how she had used the big bad Wolverine. He clenched his fists.

"Logan?" Rogue called to him carefully. She expected him to rage, to yell and throw things and storm off. This stillness was disturbing her far more than any amount of carnage and destruction could have.

"Wolvie?" Jubes hadn't found any of this even slightly amusing, ever since they recorded the tape. Granted paffing Big Bad Grey in the face was a thrill-n-ahalf, but she was too angry at the time to enjoy it. Now she was wondering if they had gone too far.

Logan turned abruptly and headed straight for the garage. Rogue moved to follow but Bobby gripped her elbow. "He'll come back. He always does."

Rogue let out the breath she was holding and nodded, but still looked towards the garage longingly and with uncertainty. Jubilee smiled and nodded reassuringly, but she looked just as uncertain as Rogue.

Nobody could be sure he'd be back this time as they heard Scott's motorcycle peel out of the driveway.

-Brunch With Charles-

He poured her a second cup of coffee with all the loving nature of a diner waitress working a double, and then poured tea for himself. They never said a word to each other. One could mistake it for two people simply enjoying a quiet meal before the start of their day had it not been for the thick as butter tension in the room.

Still it was better then eating in the dinning room with the others.

As if the glares and whispers when she entered a room weren't enough, being a telepath meant that her mental shields would take a pounding every time she was confronted with the people who hadn't yet forgiven her. It was damn childish, she thought. And it annoyed her that she couldn't even take a meal without getting a headache because the people who were suppose to care about her the most couldn't forgive and forget. And eating alone got very old, very fast.

So, for the last five months, Jean Grey took her morning meal with Charles. Since he normally preferred a mid morning brunch rather than a hearty breakfast, Jean adjusted her schedule around him. Not that she had much of a schedule these days. At the very least, Charles would and could shield his thoughts from her, and though the quiet meals were awkward, she didn't leave needing a Tylenol.

The first couple of meals, they talked. Worked out an understanding. Charles forgave her, but said he was disappointed. He almost looked heart broken. It wouldn't have mattered to the redheaded doctor, were it any other man. Charles brought out a desire in almost everyone to please him, to make him proud. For all Jean knew it could be part of his mutation. She did know it was effective. The silence that followed and the pity in his eyes when he occasionally glanced up from his Earl Gray told her more than she wanted to know. He would never look at her in the same way again. None of them would.

It wasn't an actual thought that told her this. Charles' shields never slipped once in her presence, and she didn't pick up a hint of projected disappointment or regret. He simply wouldn't do that to her. He was better than she was. His silence spoke volumes about that.

So it was a shock to them both when their relative mental quiet was broken by a wave of turbulent thoughts washing over them with the force only someone headed in their direction could project. There was anger and frustration, but an equally powerful guilt and remorse. They'd come to know the mix well.

"Come in, Jubilee"

It was probably the guilt that was eating away at her. Even her customary yellow jacket didn't seem as bright any more. "Prof, Scott sent me to give these to?.you."

The headache started the second Jubilee noticed that Jean Grey was in the same room with her. Anger bounced off her shields like rounds from a gattling gun. The girl had enough rage locked up inside her for three people. Jean lowered her head and began to rub the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

"Thank you, Jubilee." The Professor responded. Jean sighed in relief when the older man extended his shields to strengthen her own, and the monsoon known as Jubilee felt less like bullets going into her skull and more like a B.B. Gun pelting off the outside. It took a moment for them both to realize she wasn't leaving. "Was there something else?"

Jubilee's eyes were darting between the Professor and Jean, and her expressions changed drastically with each pass. She always looked at the Professor with respect. But for Jean, there was nothing but contempt. Finally she approached the desk, put both hands flat against the marble and leaned closer to Charles, everything about her stance speaking for determination and mustered up courage. "We should go after him. It's been too long."

"Jubilation, Logan is an adult and as such is perfectly capable?"

Jubilee's head slowly turned to face Jean with a look that would have made Magneto cringe. Jean wisely shut her mouth. The Professor, as almost always, was silent and expressionless.

The awkward moment passed when Jubes tore her gaze away from Jean and eyed the Professor levelly. He looked at her, as if taking her measure then nodded his head, reaching into his desk and pulling out a square piece of plastic that spoke more about how much the Professor trusted Jubilee than any words could convey. "Take someone with you, preferably a someone of legal age. And Jubilee?Be careful."

Jean was the picture of shock as Jubes smiled, took the credit card, thanked the Professor, and darted out of his office. Jean coughed, swallowing her coffee too fast then lifted her head to the older man. "Are you sure that was wise, Charles? Jubilation is still a child after all?"

"?I've seen adults display far less maturity than has been proven by our Jubilee." Checkmate. Jean drank the rest of her coffee in silence.

------

"Hello there, pet'te. What brings you to Remy today? " There stood the Cajun, suddenly turning his back to the girl he was just flirting with shamelessly, to the girl's obvious dismay, as she scoffed, raised her hand at the back of the Louisiana charmer and stormed off in a flourish of swaying hips and clicking high heels, none of which Remy noticed. He waited to see what it was the much younger yellow clad girl wanted from him.

"You're going on a ride with me, swamp rat."

"Moi? And where you be t'inkin' we goin'?"

"Don't know yet, but probably northernly like."

Together, they started walking towards the garage. "And why you come to Remy fo' dis?"

"Because the Prof said bring "someone of legal age" and since you qualify, you, my friend, are coming with."

"OK, chile. Where de ol' man send you dat you need a responsible adult like moi?"

That sent Jubilee into a fit of laughter, from which, she had to put a hand on Remy's forearm --she couldn't quite reach his shoulder-- to steady herself. She coughed to put a stop to her chuckling, patted the Cajun once on the back, then the thirteen year old hopped into the driver's side of the Land Rover.

Remy hopped into the passenger side with no hesitation. He had after all, taken the younger girl driving a time or two, much to Scott's dismay?should One-eye ever find out about it. "If he didn't know better, pet'te, Remy might have believed you no consider him an adult." Said the Cajun, with a half grin plastered on his face.

"Oh, I have no trouble picturing you as an adult, Rem? But it's the "responsible" mumbo-jumbo that got ta me."

Remy chuckled and leaned against the door, eyeing the younger girl as she started to pull out of the garage. "Come now, what all this foolishness about, pet'te? We makin' a pick up?"

Jubilee's hands flexed on the steering wheel. "Oh nothing much. Little tracking, little bar hopping, drag Wolvie back, maybe hit a mall?"

Fortunately the Land Rover wasn't going very fast down the driveway when Remy suddenly opened his door and hopped out. Jubes sighed and put the jeep in park. " Come on, Rem!"

"NON? Dat man don'na like me, pet'te. Remy do just 'bout anyt'ing for you, but he sooner 'splain dental hygiene to ol' 'Tooth den make da Canucklehead do anyt'ing he don'na wanna."

"Rem.. ON. GROW A BACKBONE, YOU SPINELESS, MEATLESS, CAJUN-FLAVORED?"

"?Please, Remy."

Gambit and Jubilee's heads turned in unison at quiet southern voice. "Rogue, mah chere. Remy don'na?"

The look in her eyes was one of desperation. And the old Cajun had a hard time turning down one femme in distress. Being ganged up on by two was completely beyond his breaking point. He foolishly looked to Jubilee for support, but when all he got was a synchronized attack in the form of an infamous Jubilee pout, he sighed and admitted defeat, allowing himself to be dragged back into the Land Rover by an anxious Jubilee.

Satisfied in her victory, Jubes stuck her tongue out at Remy, then turned to talk to Rogue. "You should come too, chica. Lots of room in the Jubes-mobile. Besides, Remy's much more likely to survive the initial encounter if you're there too."

At that Remy glared at Jubes, but suddenly appeared to understand her logic and gave Rogue a pleading look, one bordering on the line of pathetic.

"Ya'll actually think he'll come back if I ask him to?" Rogue asked. But the question of her going or not was already answered. She was in the SUV before Jubes was finished explaining the Remy-oriented advantages to her.

"Hell, girl. Dat man yank one o' dem claws out his hand and give it to you for a butter knife if you asked him to."

-------

From his office, the Professor stared out the window to the grounds below as the jeep pulled past the gates, making a dangerously sharp right and then raced down the road, out of view. Jean drank her coffee and watched him. The older man took a sip of his tea, starring out the window, and Jean figured short of her falling out of her chair and having a seizure on the floor he wouldn't be looking away from it any time soon. She almost didn't mind. For the first time since she started taking her brunch with Charles, he had a smile on his face.

-Lunch Dates-

Scott Summers glanced around the crowded dinner and wondered, not for the first time, if this was such a good idea. Not only were they two, somewhat-obvious mutants, should anyone stop to consider it, but it was crowded, and the tables were closely packed, so making a quick exit an unlikely possibility.

He really should be back at the mansion anyway. Senior finals were coming up, and he'd promised the students a tutoring session. Trig could be a hard class, after all.

And there was the fact that he was going out to lunch with a woman who wasn't Jean, who looked nothing like Jean. She was at his side right now, hand on his elbow, appearing very calm and very serene. He was out to lunch with Ororo and it wasn't exactly platonic.

But that really had nothing to do with it?.really. He was a grown man and could go out to lunch with anyone he wanted. And damn it, he was not still pinning over Jean Grey, no matter what the kids thought about him. She'd left him after all. He was perfectly within his rights to move on.

And besides, it was just lunch. It wasn't as if he was proposing to the resident wind-rider?

?Scott wasn't sure he could do this.

"It is crowded here."

Scott glanced over to the woman at his arm, and for the first time, he dragged himself enough out of his own insecurities to be conscious of hers. Damn foolish of him to have forgotten her claustrophobia. What kind of leader was he anyway?

"I saw some picnic tables outside. We could get something to go and eat it out there?" Storm nodded her agreement and they went to the counter to order. Surprisingly, they got quick service with little more then a few curious glances at his red lenses and a few envious and otherwise interested looks at Ororo. Scott found himself wrapping an arm around her waist.

For the sake of appearances, of course. So that none of the braver idiots would get any wise ideas.

That it felt right and that 'Ro didn't seem inclined for him to move his hand any time soon, made no never-mind to Scott.

Inwardly, Scott groaned. He either needed to accept this, or get better at lying to himself.

Fortunately their food arrived, which distracted him from thinking any more on the subject. It was good, greasy food. His double cheeseburger and fries and Ororo's grilled turkey club and chips, all wrapped in styrofoam and ready to go.

They finally separated when they reached the picnic tables. The area was surrounded with old oaks that had been pruned away from the building, causing them to grow towards the tables, forming a kind of awning. They also gave the added advantage of breaking up the sound coming in from the road. Or maybe that was Ororo, subtly shifting the winds. Either way, it helped them enjoy their meal in relative quiet. Neither did much more then enjoy each other's company, comfortable silence broken up by the sounds of chewing, and an occasional comment on the food.

Nothing deep. No emotional angst.

All in all, a good first date.

"Yeah, Yeah?I know Prof. Six weeks is a long time."

The two older mutants watched in amusement as Jubilee made her weekly check in call to Xavier. Though they were technically the two adults on this trip --Remy moreso then Rogue, if chronological age was the only thing considered-- Jubilee was the one who made this call every week. Her choice. This was -her- mission she insisted. She should be the one that kept the Professor updated. They allowed it for one, because no one liked to argue with Jubes when she had set her mind to something, and two, no one liked to argue with the Professor when he'd set his mind to something. The two were more alike then one would think.

"The Beaster has been sending me my class work. Rogue's been doing her internet class thing. And Remy's been making sure we've been doing it all. Haven't ya Rem?"

Remy gave a grin and a shrug to Jubes' loaded question. The firecracker originally brought him along on this trip because she thought he'd be the only one who'd let her get away with it. He'd surprised her by making them stop to keep up with their daily lives. Even went so far as to call Hank and have him overnight Jubilee's textbooks. That, and Wolverine's ability to stay lost when he wanted to be lost, was part of why this trip was taking so long.

"Well, if you'd go use that big round telepathic tracking device you have in the basement, it wouldn't be taking this long to find him."

Rogue chuckled just loud enough to not be heard over the phone. There weren't many people that could talk to Xavier like that. She could, because she had too many old people in her head already and had a hard time looking at him as her elder. Logan could, because he was Logan, and no one could tell him he couldn't.

A less perceptive person could be convinced Jubilee had just picked that trait up from Logan. But Rogue and Remy had both been around her enough to know that even though she had gallons of respect for the Professor, she only knew how to talk to someone on one level. Bypass the bullshit and get to the point, or keep your mouth shut. Xavier knew that too.

"Yeah, Yeah?I know, ethics 'smethics' blah blah blah?. Look, Prof. You gotta give us a few more days. We're close."

Jubes sounded really sure about that.

"?.Gut. I just feel it ok?"

Remy raised an eyebrow at Rogue. Neither was sure if Jubes was just trying to buy time with Xavier, or if she was serious. You couldn't be sure of anything around Jubes, except where you stood with her. She made that abundantly clear, and usually told you to your face, in words simple enough for you to understand.

"Look Professor. I'm asking you to trust me here. If we can't find him in?five more days, we'll turn around and come home."

"five."

"four."

"Ok ok, three more days. Thanks Prof."

Jubes was looking for all the world like she'd just struck the lotto when she hung up the phone and bounded over to Rogue and Remy with youthful energy even the 'barely an adult' Rogue didn't seem to possess anymore. "Three more days. But Buff Bouncer Guy-God at the stripper club recognized Wolvie and the bike. So he has to be close."

Remy's eyebrow did a sudden climb up his forehead.

Rogue nodded her agreement. "Talked to the bartender. There's a run down roadhouse three towns north of here. And they're having fights tomorrow night, purse of 5000 bucks."

Jubes grinned and muttered a "Gotcha Wolvie" under her breath before bounding over to the Land Rover.

Remy just turned a curious glance over to Rogue. "And how is it, chere, dat you get all this information out of de bartender?" There was a grin on his face as big as Jubilee's, but slightly more sly. Rogue mimicked it and took a soda out of one of the bags Remy was carrying. A lunch of all the finest delicacies the Quicky-Mart could provide, ham and cheese sandwiches in plastic triangle cases, a bag of pretzels, three sodas and a collection of chocolates and sweets guaranteed to keep Jubes hyper for another twelve hours. Rogue took a long drink on their way back to the jeep before she answered Remy.

"Charm, Cajun. Figured you of all people would know a thing or two 'bout that."

The horn honked repeatedly, cutting off anything else he would have said. And after an interesting moment of silence, they got in, Remy behind the wheel, and headed north.

He'd taken her to a crowded, but charming Italian bistro, one of those little homey places with one stove and a normal sized refrigerator. Where the food was as if the Italian mother you never had made it, but you had to wait half an hour for it to get to you because the yuppies had taken a liking to the place.

He'd ordered her wine as soon as they'd come in and poured her a glass. It was midday, strange time for a drink. Probably not to Warren, he had the luxury of not caring what time of day it was when he drank. It wasn't as if he had a paycheck to work for.

He'd also insisted that they meet at the bistro instead of one picking the other up.

Even if Jean hadn't been a telepath, she would have suspected him immediately.

"We need to talk."

She finished the rest of her glass in one gulp, sat it down, and eyed him levelly.

"You're leaving me."

He had the good sense to appear guilty.

"You and I both knew it wasn't a lasting thing, Jean. Come on, now. You're too old for me. You're gonna want things, need things, that I'm not ready for. Husband, kids, white picket fence. I'm not ready for all that. I need to spread my wings and fly?.so to speak."

The inside joke did nothing to stop Jean's stomach from flipping around. Yes, she had known Warren wasn't going to last. She had never expected him to. He was just one of many things she'd screwed up in the last year. A symptom of a chronic disorder she had to ruin all the good things in her life. She eyed the empty glass because she didn't want to look at him, twirling the slender steam --far too rich looking for the bistro they were in-- between her fingertips. It took a minute before she registered he was still speaking.

"?that's just how it is. You know what you need, Jean? You need to find a man that adores you, a puppy you can train. Marry him, have a bunch of kids and live happily ever after as the Queen of the hill. It will suit you. You'll see."

He'd picked up his coat from the back of his chair, said something else Jean didn't bother to listen to and left. She sat there for a long moment, not sure who she was more disgusted with, Warren or herself. The thing was, she couldn't actually accuse him of being wrong. She'd had everything and more in Scott. And she couldn't remember anymore what it was that convinced her she needed to be free from him. At first she thought she'd found the answer in Logan, thought he was everything Scott wasn't. But slowly she discovered the two were more a like then either would ever admit. Was that why she went to Warren? Because she knew absolutely that he wasn't?

Jean sighed and gave up trying to figure it out. It was pointless, and she wasn't into self-cruelty over men. The waiter came over and dropped a slip of paper onto her table when he saw her getting ready to leave.

That winged son of a bitch left her with the tab.

-In the Cookie Jar-

They sent Rogue in first.

Remy would have probably been skewered on sight, and as much as he liked Jubes, Logan would have probably been too pissed off at the idea of a thirteen-year-old in a bar like the one he was in to listen to anything she had to say.

And then he would have skewered Remy.

So Rogue went in and they sat back to wait. They didn't have to wait long.

The Wolverine came out of the bar growling and heading straight for his bike, a frustrated Rogue huffing and stomping at his heels. Rogue wasn't the kind of person to yell. She'd wait until she had you close enough to not raise her voice when she spoke to you. Logan knew this, and figured if he got to the bike before she caught up to him, he wouldn't have to listen to what it was he knew she was gonna say.

But he wasn't expecting to find a little Asian brunette sitting rather comfortably on the bike when he got to it.

"Hi, Wolvie."

"Off, Jubes."

"Make me."

And he did. But Jubes didn't spend long with her butt planted on the asphalt. Logan hadn't quite gotten the bike into gear when Jubes barreled around in front of it, straddling the front tire and holding on to the handle bars.

"Now you hold on just a damn minute, you jumpy, no good, hard as hell to find, Canuck. We've been on your tail for six weeks and I'll be damned if your gonna run off again without hearing what we have to say."

Logan glared daggers at her, only to receive daggers back. Sighing, he turned off the bike. "Six weeks, huh?" He glanced her over quickly and then Rogue, sniffed, growled, and turned angry eyes on Remy.

"This your idea, Gambit?"

No one present missed the dangerous tint to his tone. But Remy didn't get a chance to answer. The resident firecracker beat him to it.

"This was -my- idea. Remy's just chaperoning. And enough is enough, old man. The angst time limit for all issues involving Jean Grey passed about six months ago. It's time for you to come home."

"Jubes?" came the exasperated reply.

"Logan. You don't need to beat yourself up over this." Rogue interjected before the Wolverine could make an excuse. "Come home, We miss you."

For some reason, Logan lifted his eyes to Remy, who'd wisely moved back and away from the conversation. If he expected to find something there, all Logan got was a shrug of the Cajun's shoulders.

There was silence for a long moment, where Logan seemed to be considering the gas tank of Cyke's bike with newfound interest. "I'll come home when I'm ready." He replied, and lifted his hand for silence when Jubilee started to protest. "I'll come home when I'm ready?.but it will be soon."

"Promise?" Came the question with a quirk of Rogue's mouth in what could have been a grin.

"Promise." And he tapped a knuckle gently at Rogue's sternum, metal against metal.

And with a glare and a grin, he turned his attention back to the little brunette still straddling the front tire of his bike. He ruffled her hair with one hand and pried her fingers off the handlebars with the other as he propped one of his legs onto the bike. "And you, you little pipsqueak." He said to an indignant Jubilee, who opened her mouth to protest but couldn't quite get the words out before Logan interrupted. "No more rescue missions on us Canuckleheads who don't wanna be rescued. Go home. Get back in class. And make sure no one drinks my beer."

Jubilee crossed her arms over her chest but still didn't move from in front of the bike. Logan sighed, reached over the handlebars and dragged the girl by the arm of her yellow jacket around the bike and to the side, where he could give her a hug. While he still had her in his arms, he whispered in her ear. "And no more standing in front of bad men and their motorcycles if you don't wanna become a Jubes skid mark."

Jubes pulled back with a huff and a smirk on her face. "It's not your motorcycle anyway, so you can't be a bad man."

The grin on the Wolverine was priceless.

Rogue got a hug too, a mumbled "Thanks, kid" and a promise to call once in a while. There wasn't a soul in the world that could hold that man to the once a week rule.

And before he skidded away, he turned his gaze back to Remy. "Get them home safe and sound, Gumbo, or I'll chop you into day old sushi and feed you to the trout."

Jubes laughed, Rogue bristled, Remy blanched.

No one doubted he would.

--The Thing about Family Dinners--

There were many places one could go to enjoy a meal at Xavier's school for gifted youngsters. There was no, "No food in the rooms" rule, and some of the students did choose to eat in the solitary comfort of a confined space. But the cafeteria was still set up to seat far more students then lived at the school. There was a nicely equipped dining room nearby for the teachers that could be opened up or closed off from the cafeteria, should the they see fit. Another, smaller, teachers lounge in the opposite wing, and another lounge in the basement. Picnic tables dotted the lawn, some in view of the house, others more secluded. So it was rare to have everyone at the school take a meal in the same place at the same time.

Unless of course, Xavier chose to take that meal in the formal dining room.

The room was massive. It was the size of a basketball court if one took out the bleachers, and nestled on the first floor of the eastern wing, hidden away among classrooms and offices.

It was normally only used on holidays. Most of the students had no one to go home to and Xavier made a big deal about each holiday. Labor day and Memorial day gave rise to picnic and pool parties that would go on for the entire weekend. Valentines day were celebrated with an annual dance complete with Limos waiting outside to ride students around the grounds before coming back to the mansion steps. All the winter holidays, depending on belief and faith, were celebrated the entire ending two months of the year. Decorations designed and planed by the students, and special dinners taken on various days throughout those two months. The only rule during that time was, no one ate alone. So several days during those two months out of the year, every man, woman and child at Xavier's took their meals in the formal dining room.

It was before Thanksgiving on this particular day that the Professor had called a special meal. No one could be quite sure what holiday they were celebrating. Sometimes, it ended up that they weren't.

"Today, we celebrate each other. That we can come together for this family dinner, is a blessing to us all."

His words proceeded the clinking of glasses, which held wine, soda, tea, or water, depending on age or preference.

One of the glasses was a mug, brimming with beer.

Logan sat on Xavier's left, stern-faced but happy. Rogue could tell by the glint in his eyes. Across from her, Jubilee sat on Logan's other side, rambling on and on about the things that happened while he was gone. Logan didn't comment. But he was listening, and occasionally casting side-glances at Rogue with a "help me" expression she knew he didn't feel.

On Xavier's right, were Cyclops and Storm. They'd tried to talk Marie out of calling them both by their surnames once she'd graduated. But she wasn't quite comfortable yet with calling them Scott and Ororo. Their codenames was a compromise.

Hank was seated next to Storm, and next to him, sat Jean. She didn't speak much, but she didn't look uncomfortable, and no one tried to make her uncomfortable. Part of the rules, after all. No one ate alone.

The students fanned out the rest of the table. Bobby tried to hit Jubes with a spitball without being caught by Logan or the two telepaths in the room. Hank rambled on and on to his newest protegee Kitty about various things only the two of them and possibly Jean and the Professor would understand. Scott was talking pleasantly with Xavier with Ororo's hand clasped firmly in his on the table top. Rogue caught Jean staring at it from time to time with something like longing in her eyes. But she looked away just as quickly and never let on it affected her.

Rogue caught Charles' eyes once during the dinner. He smiled at her and she smiled back, an expression of accomplishment, for both of them.

And Remy was currently using her hair to tickle her neck, reminding Rogue of his presence. She turned her eyes to meet his.

"Something wrong, mon pet'te amor? Remy tinks you look a tad bit distracted." The sly expression on his face told her he wasn't talking about her daydreaming.

One gloved hand came to rest on his upperthigh, causing Remy to squirm slightly in his seat. "So do you, sugar."

A gruff voice cleared itself and both Remy and Rogue turned their gazes to meet Logan's steady one. One eyebrow rose in wordless command and two sets of hands immediately returned to the tabletop.

Rogue bristled, Remy blanched?.Jubilee laughed.

--A Snack Before Bedtime: Epilogue --

Jean had just come out of the shower, for the third time that night.

She didn't take baths, didn't see the point. But sometimes a hot shower would relax her enough that she could sleep.

It didn't seem to be working tonight though.

Without realizing it, she ended up staring at the side of the bed that once upon a time, had been occupied by Scott, and then Logan. Now neither man wanted her, and Jean Grey was not used to being not wanted.

She couldn't blame anyone but herself though. She'd thrown it all away for what looked like greener pastures. Or maybe she just wasn't used to feeling so safe in bed with a man, in her own skin, in her own mind.

It wasn't as simple as that and she knew it. But instead of wasting precious energy trying to define what went wrong in words other then "Jean's fault" she put on her robe and headed downstairs, her destination, the kitchen and whatever junk food it might possess, patented cure all for bad moody redheads and insomniacs every where.

When she got there, she froze. A petite Asian figure with close cropped black hair was just climbing down from a cabinet she'd used to reach the bigger glasses on the second shelf. Jean was already planning her retreat when the figure turned around and caught sight of her.

Old anger and disgust immediately started pounding on her shields, and Jean put her thumb and forefinger up to the bridge of her nose, attempting to fight off the headache.

"Good evening, Jubilation. "

Jubilee glared at her for a moment, then put the glass down next to the sink and started to walk away.

"I was just getting a glass of water. Good night, Dr. Grey."

"Jubilee?." Jean called just as the young woman was exiting the door. Jubes turned, crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned against the doorframe.

"I'm only human"

A huff. " D'uh."

"I made a mistake."

Silence.

"I fucked up?."

"Bingo."

Jean sighed and leaned back against the counter. Some part of her was screaming indignantly at being reprimanded by a girl that was barely a teenager. Most of her was just tired of it all. A tiny little bit admitted that the teenager was right.

"I'm sorry."

"Lots of people need to hear that, Dr. Grey. I'm not one of them."

"Yes you are."

Jean had the younger girl's attention now.

"I said a lot of things I shouldn't have. But in the process, I lost your trust. I'm sorry for that."

Jubilee just huffed.

"You're just sorry you got caught."

"That too," Jean admitted. "But I'd also like for us to be able to be in the same room together without you running off and me getting a headache."

There was a grim smile on her face when she said it, but Jubes seemed to be considering it.

"I guess we'll see." Jubilee finally responded as she turned to head back up to her room. A tired Jean turned to put the glass away, feeling very very old.

"Dr. Grey?"

She turned to turned to see Jubes still standing half-way out the door.

"There's a pint of mint chocolate chip behind the ice machine, all the way in the back, in an empty bag of frozen brussel sprouts that Iceman made stick to the metal rack. You'd be surprised how good ice cream is when you can't sleep."

Jean smiled a thank you, and Jubilee went back to bed.

Dr. Jean Grey found and ate mint chocolate chip ice cream until dawn.


End file.
